To Claim His Heir by Christmas

by Victoria Parker

  Already he paced like a caged animal, face dark, implacable. Cold. And if his brutal, austere demeanour wasn’t enough for her to know she’d destroyed any chance of happiness between them, his words tormented her heart and soul.

  ‘I will never forgive you for this… We will marry without delay…’

  Luciana was unsure what was worse. An emotion-free marriage in which her heart was safe. Or being married to the man who’d always owned her heart and yet hated her in return. And loathe her he did. She’d never forget the look on his face. Such disappointment. Such hatred.

  But Nate will have his daddy and you won’t have to leave him any time, any place, anywhere. You’ll spend every day with him and see him grow into a great man and that will be enough.

  Of course it would be enough. It was all she’d ever wanted since the day that little stick had turned blue.

  Lucas had promised to be here on the hour—though he wasn’t happy about it. His tone had suggested she’d gone stark raving mad. But luckily Claudia had smoothed the way. Thanks heavens for Claudia and her huge heart and quick mind.

  Breathe, she told herself. In and out, slow and even as she made her way up four flights of stairs to the vestibule.

  The future was staggeringly vague—and wasn’t that the story of her life? No idea what tomorrow would bring, how they’d live in this strange place where they didn’t know a soul. She was asking herself how they would fit in, how she’d explain to her father that she wasn’t taking her crown, how her own people would react on discovering they’d no longer have a new queen in the spring.

  Thane had said she’d never leave, but that had to be his anger talking—he couldn’t possibly be serious. She’d have to go home before they wed…give a speech renouncing her birthright. Then enter a marriage she couldn’t bear to contemplate. And, wow, that seemed to be happening a lot lately.

  All of it was churning in a relentless, nauseating roll. Until she felt insecure. Vulnerable. Defenceless. And by the time she stepped beneath the overhang of the palatial entryway, restless angst clutched her midsection, making her bow forward so hard she faked tying the satin bows on her pumps to cover it up.

  Come on, Luce, you can do this. It’s just like being at home, right? Serene smiles. Cool façade. Think…poise and grace. By Christmas you’ll be a carbon copy of the ice queen that is your mother and in a barren, loveless marriage.

  Oh, God.

  Luciana pinned her spine straight and stood on the top step, squinting at the black dot swelling beneath the sun. Plagued by the need for someone to take her hand, tell her everything would be okay.

  No, not someone. Not just anyone.

  Chancing a look at Thane, she sneaked a peek towards the base of the stairs where he stood—separated from her by metres that felt more like a vast yawning chasm she had no clue how to fill.

  As if he could feel her eyes on him Thane turned his head to catch her stare. His dark eyes were stormy and full of condemnation as they snared hers in an unbreakable glare.

  She wanted to battle it out with him, make him see her side of things, but this wasn’t the time or place. And deep down she knew he’d never look at her in any other way. Certainly not the way he had last night. With need and adoration and respect. Something close to joy.

  Luciana sank her teeth into her bottom lip, unable to sever the dark, hypnotic pull, and for a second—when the faintest crease lined his brow—she imagined those beautiful obsidian eyes shimmered with striations of golden warmth.

  Hope spun its crazy web inside her…

  Then, with a curl of distaste at his mouth, he tore his gaze from hers. And that web disintegrated into the pit of her stomach.

  Deafening, the whoop-whoop of the helicopter grew louder and louder. Her hair whipped around her face and she focused on the only thing that truly mattered.

  The colossal machine lowered into a lethal squat on the landing pad in the centre of Thane’s huge circular driveway. And the need to run to Natanael—see him, hold him, touch him—had her bolting forward and hurtling down the steps.

  At the bottom, Thane snagged her arm to pull her back.

  ‘Wait,’ he ordered fiercely.

  ‘Let go of me, Thane.’ She felt as if she was hanging by the slenderest of threads over a vast, dark churning abyss and at any moment now the line would snap.

  ‘It is too dangerous—wait a moment.’

  He stood with rigid tense-jawed focus, but when the black door swung wide, and Natanael emerged, for a split second he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

  Nathanael careened towards her at a speed of knots. And though he swam in her vision she could still see those gorgeous dimples in his smooth caramel cheeks, those deep expressive eyes so much like his father’s.

  His father—whose entire body had gone rigid, as though he was desperately fighting to maintain control.

  Luciana threw hers to the winds and ran.

  * * *

  Thane had a curious feeling in his chest—as if someone had reached in and taken hold of his heart.

  It was like looking at himself. Turning back the clock and gazing in the mirror to see himself as a small boy. And at that moment Thane vowed to do everything in his power to ensure his son would not suffer hurt or cry in pain. He swore it. Swore to move heaven and earth to prevent any of it.

  He’d always been adroit at killing his emotions—with the exception of those evoked by Luciana—but he’d never felt anything close to this. Emotions…so many emotions flooding over him. All-powerful. All-consuming.

  Natanael—meaning ‘God has given’. He tried it out on his tongue for the first time, because maybe he hadn’t truly believed it until now, and acknowledged how good it felt—how right.

  Thane’s fingers burned with the need to touch all that smooth skin, his silky hair—ebony, like Thane’s own. But he didn’t want to frighten him. The scars on his face were enough to scare anyone, let alone a child.

  So instead he ground his feet into the gravel and soaked up every nuance as his son shouted in utter joy, with the biggest smile Thane had ever seen, when he spotted Luciana.

  ‘Mamá!’

  Luciana lowered herself into an elegant crouch to catch him and ended up on her bottom in the dirt, not caring about it one iota, hugging him with a glorious smile of her own, smoothing the thick glossy waves of his hair, kissing his brow, his soft cheek.

  Never had he seen anything like it. Or maybe he had. Maybe the sight before him resurrected memories he’d rather keep buried six feet under.

  Dios, his chest was imploding.

  A sweet strum of a giggle flew past Natanael’s perfect lips and Thane wondered what she was doing to make him laugh. Saw her fingers tickling his sides, realised he must like that, even though he was yelling, ‘Stop! Stop!’ And then she was wrapping him in her arms again, kissing him and touching him. All over.

  And in that moment there was something so profoundly, exquisitely beautiful about her he felt the strangest sensation in his throat, behind his eyes. Like tiny hot needles pricking.

  ‘Did you see? I was in the big black ’copter, Mamá!’

  ‘I know, darling, and I’m so glad because it brought you to me.’

  Darling. The endearment fisted Thane’s heart.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much. My goodness—I swear you’ve grown an inch.’

  Natanael gazed up at her with a fierce male pride that punched Thane in the gut. He was a Guerrero through and through.

  When his little mouth geared up for the next zealous outpouring, he stalled—his attention seemingly snagged on Thane.

  His insides turned over and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be nervous.

  Natanael gaped at him with steady unblinking eyes, scrutinising the scar on his chin as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Then he looked up at Luciana, and then back to Thane, his tiny mind processing.

  It was utterly fascinating, Thane decided. And—for want of a better word—nerve-r
acking. Dios, he felt ill.

  Then, as if Natanael had finally accepted Thane was real, he exclaimed, ‘Wow! He looks like me. But a whole lot bigger. Do you fly?’

  Huh?

  ‘Si…actually, I do. I am a pilot and I have my own fighter jet.’

  ‘I knew it,’ said Natanael, unequivocally awed. ‘You’re one of the New Warriors. Did you just come down from InterGalactica?’

  Thane blinked. ‘Is this in Europe?’

  ‘No, silly. It’s in outer space.’ With a smile and a nod he gave Thane a knowing look. Then he tried for a wink that scrunched up his entire face as he whispered, conspirator-like, ‘You know it is.’

  Luciana lightly cleared her throat. ‘He’s into…er…superheroes. Like Batman and Ironman…that kind of thing. And one of them looks uncannily like you. And him too.’

  Thane supposed he could live with that. Although what would happen when Natanael asked him to actually fly? He was far too small to go in his military jet.

  He hunkered down until they were at eye level and commanded himself to relax, to think of something to say.

  ‘Actually, I am a warrior of a kind. I’m the Prince of Galancia and I live here, and I was hoping you would come and live with me too.’

  It occurred to him that they’d have to have the ‘I’m your daddy’ conversation—but, frankly, that petrified him. Plus, he wasn’t keen on Garcia being within hearing distance for that. Right now all he wanted was for his son to agree to stay.

  Natanael huddled into Luciana, a spark of panic blanching his beautiful face, and Thane realised a second too late his mistake.

  ‘Mamá too?’

  He cursed inwardly. Of course he would panic. The love he could feel between them was palpable. ‘Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Mamá too.’

  Luciana nodded and achieved the perfect smile—though to Thane it verged on brittle, and made him ache even more.

  Natanael peered around him, unconvinced. His nose was scrunched, as if he wasn’t overly impressed with the tree-lined driveway or the kaleidoscope of manicured blooms flourishing in the borders. Granted, the mansion looked like a one-storey cottage from the top of the cliff. The towering five-floor vista from the beach was far more dramatic and arresting. Though perhaps not for a child.

  Thane scratched his jaw. Stumped. Then intuitively he glanced at Luciana. Who, in turn, mouthed a word at him.

  He frowned, striving to catch her meaning. What the hell was she saying? ‘Dog?’ he asked.

  ‘Dog?’ Natanael said, perking up. ‘You have a dog? Really?’

  Ah. This, Thane realised, was of great importance. ‘Si. Lots of dogs. And horses too.’

  ‘You have horses?’ Dark eyes, the precise shade of Thane’s own, grew huge and glittery with excitement.

  He didn’t seem afraid, so hesitantly Thane reached out and touched the soft caramel skin of his cheek. The astonishing surge of connection rocked him to the core. Phenomenal. His little boy was the most miraculous thing he’d ever touched. Just like his mother, Thane thought, with a wrenching tug on his guts.

  ‘Many, many horses. You can have your very own. But they don’t live here… Yet,’ he added hastily, thinking he could easily build a stable for a few. Dozen.

  Natanael jumped up and down on the spot. ‘I can have my own horse, Mamá! Can we go and see the dogs? Right now? Can we? Can we?’

  Relief poured down Thane’s spine. Victory. This was good. He could kiss Luciana for that dog hint. Though he quickly squashed the impulse.

  ‘I think so. Thane, are they downstairs?’

  As if she’d experienced the same kind of bone-melting sense of appeasement he just had, she made a clumsy effort at rising to her feet and Thane bolted forward, curled his fingers around her tight waist and lifted her upright.

  Surprise widened her eyes. ‘Oh. Thank you,’ she whispered.

  And when he saw her perfect white teeth bite into her bruised red bottom lip a surge of heat spiked his pulse. One he couldn’t understand. Didn’t want to feel.

  Jerking his hands away, he stepped backwards and cleared his throat. ‘Pietro will let them out. When I’ve had a word with Garcia I’ll join you.’

  With a strained smile she nodded, and glanced at Lucas Garcia herself.

  Thane wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it was certainly not her embracing him like some long lost lover. He had to clench his fists to stop from tearing her off him.

  ‘Thank you so much, Lucas,’ she said softly, shakily. ‘For everything.’

  Garcia pulled back and shot her a meaningful look that pricked Thane’s nerves. ‘Remember what I said, Luciana. Any time, night or day.’

  Another of those frangible smiles, but she brightened it for Natanael and took his small hand in hers—as if she was physically unable to stop touching him. Thane felt an absurd pang of envy that filled him with self-disgust. Surely it wasn’t healthy or natural to feel envious of his son? Dios, he truly was black inside.

  Those clasped hands swayed back and forth as they waltzed into the house, then he turned back to Garcia.

  Voice stony, he bit out, ‘She will not be contacting you. Everything she needs is right here.’

  As if in a standoff, they weighed one another up. One soldier to another.

  Garcia’s midnight-blue gaze hardened. ‘You hurt either of them and I will come for you.’

  Thane almost laughed. Almost. Instead he sneered at the other man. ‘If you had any sense, Garcia, you’d never set foot on my island again. I’ve allowed you into restricted airspace to bring my son to me. Next time it will be denied.’

  ‘Do you think that will stop me? I’ll be honest, here—I’m not getting a very good vibe between you and Luciana, so I’m not entirely convinced that leaving them here is the right choice.’

  ‘I care very little for what you think. My relationship with Luciana is none of your business.’

  ‘That is where you are wrong. She is family, and I will not have her here against her wishes. Are you understanding me?’

  Thane’s mouth shaped to tell him she was emphatically not here against her wishes, but then he realised he’d given her little choice. Dios, he’d been so angry. Still was. Couldn’t remember half of what he’d said to her.

  Whether or not Garcia picked up on his inner turmoil Thane wasn’t sure, but he abruptly let loose a sigh that marginally shrank his impressive shoulders.

  ‘Look, I understand this must be a shock—difficult for you.’

  Thane wanted to ask him how the hell he would know how it felt, but then he remembered the man had just had a child of his own.

  ‘But know this: she has not had one moment of peace in the last five years. Knowing you were out there has tormented her. There is a reason they say ignorance is bliss. She’s had to live with her decision for years. Do not forget we have been enemies for a long time, Guerrero. She begged. She bartered. She made a pact. Just to bring Natanael into the world. I know she wanted your son more than anything in this life.’

  Begged? Bartered? Meaning Henri had wanted her to destroy their son? For the umpteenth time in history Thane wished he’d pulled that trigger. Vibrated with the urge to rain a hellish firestorm on the man’s head. Crush him beneath his almighty foot.

  Of one thing he was certain. He would do everything in his vast power to ensure Henri Verbault was erased permanently from his wife’s life. And his son’s too. Their relationship was officially at an end.

  Dios, he was so vexed his insides shook. In fact blistering fury was all he could feel in every molecule of his body as it ran like red-hot lava through his veins. Anger towards every person who’d kept him from his son. He wanted to punish them all.

  And that still included Luciana. Because she should have come to him five years ago. He would have protected her from the start.

  Thane crossed his lethal arms over his wide chest. ‘You love your daughter, don’t you? How would you feel if she’d been kept from you for the first four years of her life?�
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  His voice was iron-hard but he was genuinely interested to hear this answer. What would a normal person feel right now? Should his insides be so black with hatred? Or was he truly twisted with darkness inside?

  But then Garcia had to shock him by being brutally frank.

  ‘Not just angry. Furious. Cheated. Betrayed. All of the things you are doubtless feeling. But if I looked at the bigger picture I would see that above all else Luciana put her son—your son—first, believing he was unsafe. I have no idea how much of your reputation is true, but one fifth of it would be enough to persuade me. She protected him as any mother would. And I could not hate her or blame her for that.’

  On that note, he spun on his heels and strode back to the helicopter.

  Thane watched the blades whip into a frenzy, slicing through the air. The vociferous clamour lent him a moment of mental peace. A chance to breathe without it physically hurting.

  ‘I only wanted to keep him safe… We’re enemies… I was scared…’

  Then the sonorous roar receded and it all came rushing back in one titanic tsunami of agony—and he turned and ploughed his fist into the stone wall.

  * * *

  Dressed in Hawaiian-style shorts and a funky matching T-shirt, Natanael was a red blur, sprinting along the shoreline, dragging a long stick that drew a wavy line in the damp sand, while those great lumbering dogs pranced around him. Her little boy in seventh heaven was a glorious sight to see.

  Slanting another glance over her right shoulder, she kept watch for Thane. The helicopter had soared into the sky over an hour ago and she felt flimsy and tenuous—like a kite that would blow away with one gust of wind.

  Sloshing through the shallow waters, she slowed her step, ‘Hey, Nate? Shall we build a sandcastle and wait for Thane?’

  ‘Sure, Mamá.’

  Together they scooped sand into a mound, and Luciana watched those sweet little hands pat-pat-pat their creation into shape. This was good. She had to keep busy. Too much time to think and regret and fret would drive her loopy.